"CHAPTER TWO- Part C: Maybe, Maybe, Maybe"
* * * * * *
It took me half an hour to listen to the account of Webb's meeting with the Director that morning. It took twenty minutes to for him to relay what he was being asked to do. It took forty minutes for me to suggest I help him out. It took two hours to have a bitch of an argument over it. It took 10 minutes for me to break up with him. It took 4 hours for us to apologise, half an hour to make up, and a further hour before I asked him to take me with him.
It started over lunch, when I mentioned the Admiral had ripped into me that morning.
"Chegwidden wasn't happy about my little party with the press," I had informed him idly. It came during a break in conversation and was designed to interrupt the meaningful and uncomfortable silence that had settled across the table.
"Yeah, I've been there today too," Webb confessed, wincing slightly, "Tennet was not a happy camper this morning."
"Apparently he got a call from the President," I exhaled slowly, "So it looks like a court martial and a wave goodbye from the Corps for me."
"A wave goodbye? Jeez, you get a wave goodbye and you're complaining?"
"What happened to you?"
"Well it began at around 8 am this morning, when while I was doing some early morning paperwork I got a call from his secretary. Meeting with him at 9 o'clock. That was fine, I was expecting it. By 9 o'clock I was starting my mid-morning paperwork," he wrinkled his nose slightly, "I made it to the meeting by 5 past- fashionably late as they say. And yes, I showed up with an attitude. He was going to try to bulldoze me and I was not going to let him do it."
He relayed the conversation to me.
"WEBB, WHAT THE HELL?" Tennet bellowed, slamming the morning's paper on the desk in front of him.
"Guess the press got a hold of a good story huh?" Webb replied tonelessly.
"I'll say," replied the Director, "And I WONDER HOW?"
"Do you Sir?" Webb responded politely.
"YES. DO YOU KNOW HOW THIS STORY BECAME A MORNING HEADLINE?"
"I'm not entirely certain how the Washington Post became informed Sir," the spook replied with true spook-honesty.
"How in hell did you get that file for Miss Mackenzie Webb?"
"What file?"
"DON'T PLAY DUMB WITH ME!"
"Well Sir, it's a valid question. You see, I don't know which file you are referring to and which file you believe I gave to the Colonel. There are a lot of files here and there a lot of files on my desk, so which collection of paper were you were making indication of Sir?"
"THE INCIDENT REPORT ON RABB AND GRAHAM'S SCREW UP."
"Sir, don't you know those files were destroyed yesterday, along with a great deal of classified material. I'm surprised; that information is available to anyone with a valid agency employment number on the data base."
"HOW DID YOUR GIRLFRIEND GET THAT DAMN FILE WEBB?"
"Sir, with all due respect, Colonel Mackenzie, and I am assuming that is whom you refer to my your use of 'my girlfriend' was never in possession of the incident reports."
"YOU ARE TOO SMART FOR YOUR OWN GOOD WEBB!"
"Yes Sir."
"HOW DID SHE GET IT?"
"As I believe I have mentioned---"
"HOW DID SHE GET THE DAMNED PHOTOCOPY THEN?"
"She utilised her connections Sir. The Colonel is more than capable of finding the information she needs."
"HOW DID YOU HELP OR ASSIST HER?"
"I made a few phone calls Sir."
"TO WHOM?"
"Several people."
"WHO WEBB?"
"I contacted my contacts."
"ANSWER MY DAMN QUESTION!"
"I have Sir."
The Director surrendered this line of questioning in frustration.
"DID YOU HAVE ANYTHING TO DO WITH THE MEDIA BEING INVOLVED IN THIS WEBB?"
He gulped, all out of half-truths, "I may have been a part of that Sir."
"ANSWER ME DIRECTLY WEBB. DID YOU OR DID YOU NOT INVOLVE THE MEDIA IN THIS, THIS---THING?"
"I did Sir."
"DID YOU MAKE THIS MESS?"
"Yes Sir."
"WELL THEN, YOU ARE GOING TO CLEAN IT UP."
"Excuse me Sir?"
"WEBB, WHILE YOU DESERVE TO BE A PAPERPUSHER FOR THE REST OF YOUR GOD DAMNED EXISTENCE, YOU ARE GOING TO FIX THIS, DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?"
"I don't think so Sir."
"AMERICA HATES ME. THIS WHOLE DAMN COUNTRY HATES ME. THE PRESIDENT IS CHEWING MY ASS BECAUSE OF IT. PEOPLE DON'T DISTINGUISH BETWEEN THE CIA AND THE WHITEHOUSE. HE IS PISSED OFF WEBB AND HE WANTS SOMETHING DONE ABOUT IT."
'Yes Sir."
"YOU ARE GOING TO CO-ORDINATE AN OPERATION THAT WILL SETTLE THE SHIT STORM YOU STIRRED."
"I am Sir?"
"YES YOU DAMNED WELL ARE!"
The Director paused, red-faced and breathless collapsed in his chair and invited Webb to do the same.
"There have been leaks Webb, you've read the reports, you must know. We have a mole. I need you to get Rabb and Graham back here, preferably not in body bags, but I need you to probe into the integrity of our people in the region. Intelligence from Afghanistan has come into our office in Kabul and gone out the door with the highest bidder. That used to be us and everything was peachy, but that's changed. There are more leaks in that agent network than in damned colander. I want you to fix it."
"Me Sir?"
"No, the person sitting behind you. Yes Webb, you damnit."
"Why me Sir?"
"Because, you deserve some hard labour after that fuck up in South America. This is not going to be easy. You're up against damned near impossible odds, you can't trust anyone, you can't make anyone suspicious, you've got to play the politics and you've got to handle the press. And I assure you, the media can, and will, be a bitch."
"I know Sir."
"Honestly, when you screw this up I will have a reason to fire you. Besides, there's the remote possibility that you'll pull it off, which would be great for my reputation. Then I'll have a reason to promote you and assign you to a far off corner of the globe were I will not have to drag your happy ass into my office to kick it into line every morning. Do you understand me?"
"Yes Sir."
Both men rose and Webb turned to leave, dreading what was sure to be a (another) failed operation. He was mentally conceiving the beginning of his multi-million dollar business empire. It would start with a best-selling self-help novel: Fucking up CIA Ops 101. Then---
"I know you think this is a fucked up op, and I'm giving it to you because we've got some shit to settle since you got my ass kicked over Paraguay," the Director began, and Webb, distracted from his thoughts, turned to face him again, "That ain't true. Sure, it's punishment in part, but it's also a test. You wanna salvage the wreckage of your career? Get Rabb and Graham's asses back here in one piece, have them smile for the papers then escort them to my office where I can rip them a new one. You pick your own team. Do what you want. I don't care. You make the calls. But Webb?"
"Yes Sir?"
"You fuck this up and you won't just be pushing paper in Mozambique or worse, you will be on unemployment, you understand me?"
"Perfectly Sir."
"Good. Get your ass moving. I have a press conference in 20 minutes and I wanna be able to truthfully say my people are on it."
"Yes Sir."
Lunch had ended rather uneventfully. It was that evening, when I arrived home to find him there, that the events started. First, he told me he had to go. He couldn't tell me where and he didn't know how long, but he was going. I'd been expecting this. I asked him to tell me. He refused. Twenty minutes later, his reasoning was finished and I was annoyed.
"So what, you're just going to walk out and get on a plane to somewhere and not even tell me, not even call me for I don't know how long?" I asked.
"Sarah, you know the deal. We've talked about this."
"No, we have never talked about this. Clay, you've told me about your little operation, why don't you just tell me how long you're going to be away?"
"Because I don't know. This could take days, weeks, months even. I don't know how long I'll be gone and I'm not going to promise you anything."
"Clay!"
"What do you want me to say? You know I am legally bound to keep specifics confidential. You're a lawyer and a Marine Corps officer, surely you understand that."
"I understand that perfectly," I snapped.
"I think you're pushing another agenda here Sarah. You are not normally like this. This little possessive-girlfriend charade you are pulling is not you. What do you want?"
"Excuse me?"
"What do you want?"
"You think it's unreasonable for me to want to know how long you will be gone? I am not asking you for specifics, I want to know if you'll be coming back and if--- there are a lot of ifs with us and you know that. I want to think about where this relationship is headed. If you're shipping out for a while, then I have to consider my priorities."
"We both know where your priorities lie," he said quietly and evenly.
"Are you implying something?" I retorted, raising my voice a little.
"No, I am stating facts. What's your little goal for this discussion Sarah?"
"I don't have an agenda with you Webb, I really don't. I just---"
"Don't lie to me."
"I'm not!" I protested.
"You are!"
"I repeat- what do you want?"
"I want you to take me with you."
Where had that come from? Yes, I was pushing this agenda, but no way in hell had I intended to admit that.
"You know I can't do that."
"Yes you can."
"No I can't. As much as I would love to have you with me, it's too dangerous. I am not risking your life again, you mean too much to me."
"That is five star bullshit," I replied sardonically.
"I cannot take me with you because I need highly-qualified people in there Sarah---"
"So I'm not good enough for your little team?"
"No—I mean yes--- I mean, no you are, but you're not a spook. You're just not. You've got your strengths in the field, that's why I took you to Paraguay, but-"
"But what?"
"Afghanistan is not Paraguay Sarah. This is not going to be simple. We are talking hardcore undercover here. You have not been trained for that."
"You've put me through enough crazy missions that I'm sure I'm qualified," I notified him.
"I can't take you and you know that."
"I thought you said Tennet said you could pick your own team?"
"He did, but that's not the point. I can't take you because it would be unprofessional and detrimental to the overall effectiveness of the operation."
"How?"
"You're my girlfriend!"
"Really?" I raised an eyebrow, "That's presumptuous."
"Oh, so now we're not seeing each other any more?"
"Well we're not going to are we?" I shot back louder than necessary.
"Sarah---"
"No, you're going away for who knows how long, I've got a court martial coming my way, we're both going to be too busy for each other. Why don't we call it quits?"
"Because those are not your reasons," he intoned quietly.
"WHO ARE YOU TO SAY WHAT MY REASONS ARE?"
"ARE YOU BREAKING UP WITH ME?"
"YES!"
"FINE!"
He stalked out and slammed the door without a word.
"FINE!" I yelled after him, shedding a few tears and wandering over the couch absently before reminding myself that it had been my decision and I had no reason to cry. I did anyway.
Fifteen minutes later I decided to call him.
He didn't answer.
I threw the phone down, "Well if that's the way you want it."
Five minutes later I called him again.
He didn't answer.
I stared at the phone in my hands and cursed quietly.
Ten minutes after that I called him a third time.
Predictably, he didn't answer.
I left a short message, apologised, threw the phone across the room in anger, lay on the couch and fell asleep.
Three hours and forty minutes later a soft tap interrupted my dream. As I stirred I became aware of a faint thudding noise. Fading into consciousness, the noise grew louder. I eventually realised there was someone knocking at the door. Sitting up slowly, I meandered down the hall to answer it.
It was Webb.
"Sarah-" he began.
I silenced him, "Come in."
"We need to talk," he announced.
"We talked," I replied evasively, returning the couch and pulling a cushion into my lap.
"No, we yelled."
"Yeah, we did that too."
"I'm sorry- I shouldn't have said---"
"No, I did most of the talking," I interrupted, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have--- I shouldn't have made a decision like that for both of us, especially when I was mad at you."
"You were right," he conceded, "I've been thinking about it and you were right."
I hugged the cushion vehemently.
"Sit down," I patted the space next to me.
"No, I'd better go."
"No," I objected, "I didn't mean what I said."
"I'm going to be gone a while, and you're right, we're not going to see each other. I won't get much chance to socialise, but if you- if you want to see other people then---"
"I don't want to see other people Clay."
He sat beside me.
"What do you want?"
"I want to come with you, I really do."
He opened his mouth, but a raised a hand, motioning for him to stop, "It's Ok if you can't take me. But I want you know that I want to help out. I want to do something."
"So what are you going to do while I'm gone?"
"I'll wait for you."
"I don't want to go you know," he murmured softly, "It will be dangerous. It's more a suicide mission than anything else. Just the Director's way of getting rid of me really."
"Clay, everything will be fine."
"No, it probably won't be. I want you to understand that now."
"Everything will be fine," I repeated.
"You don't honestly believe that everything will be the way it was if- if I fail, then you'll lose--- you'll lose pretty much everything you appear to think is of any value in your life. If I succeed," he paused, "Then everything will not be fine."
"What do you mean?"
"If I succeed, if I manage to bring Rabb and Graham home, then you and I both know things will change."
"They don't have to."
"Who are you trying to fool- me or you?"
"Excuse me?"
"You are in love with him. That little fact will have some serious ramifications in our relationship."
"Who said I loved him?"
"Sometimes people don't have to say things," he stopped, inhaled, as though trying to put into words what he was thinking, "Language is a strange medium of communication and it can be spoken in different ways. You are in love with him, and he is in love with you and you are the only two people in the world who can't see that. It's so obvious. You don't have to say it- the way you look at him says it. You don't have to use English to express it- your reactions to everything he does are a language of their own. I don't necessarily think that is a bad thing---"
I opened my mouth but realised he wasn't finished.
"But I don't necessarily think that it's a good thing either. Rabb is a world-class idiot, to let a woman like you be with a man like me. He is too stubborn and too stupid to see what is right in front of him, and I know his idiocy hurts you. If I ever get some decent alone time with him, I will tell him that and either he will see sense, or I will beat some sense into him. I don't know what you want from him, I don't know if you can work something out with him. That's none of my business unless you want to tell me. But Sarah, please, for the love of God, if do succeed, work something out with him- either start something or end something, but either way, figure this out."
"You don't know I love him."
"Yes I do. You don't know you love him."
"I think I know my own mind."
"But you've yet to discover your own heart."
"Damn you Clay, you want to end this?"
"End what?"
"Us."
"I know you are trained to kill, which is why I will not say 'what us?' at this point in time. But honestly, no, I do not want to end this. It's crazy, it's stupid and it's really strange for me, but for whatever reason, I want to be with you."
"Only because of Paraguay."
"No, only because I am in love with you."
"Only because of Paraguay."
"Sarah- don't try and figure that out. It's too complicated- like the chicken and the egg, which came first? I don't know. All I know is, without any logical justification, I am in love with you. I know that doesn't mean you love me. I want to be with you, I know that doesn't mean you want to be with me. Personally, I'd prefer you to be happy. And yes, that is in part 'only because of Paraguay' without the only. I've done some really low things in my career, but I would never wish anything but happiness for the people who I've depended on. But you are right. Because of Paraguay I want you to be happy, because I--- because I caused you a lot of pain- and not just physically. I don't know what happened with you and Rabb, I really don't- a combination of the meds and not wanting to find out. What I do know is you guys didn't walk away hand in hand into the sunset. I am not going to go there with you other than to say that was the logical progression from the situation. I don't know why it didn't happen but I know it hurt you and I know that I am, at least in part, responsible for that. I also made you live in that hellhole. I didn't want you to hear any of what you heard, I didn't want you to see any of what you saw. You should not have had to see or hear any of that- the deaths, the screams, the torture. No one should have to witness those things," he breathed in deeply, "But I made you go and I made you witness those things. Not personally, but by default. Don't argue with me, you know I'm right. So I'm sorry for what happened in Paraguay. I respect you more than I ever did because of what you went through. I will do anything to make it up to you. If that means walking away from this so you can be happy with someone else- even if it is a blind suffer of insanity like Rabb- then I will do it and I won't complain and I will respect your decision, no matter how difficult it is for me. I was so selfish bringing you to Paraguay. It was an awful thing to do and it was only for my benefit. So don't accuse me of being righteous by saying that I would give you up- one small act of selflessness is not really enough penance for what I have done to people throughout the years, you not excluded."
"Don't feel guilty about Paraguay Clay. I went. I didn't have to go."
"But I was responsible."
"One thing you will have to learn to understand about me is that I am a Marine. As you mentioned before I am trained to kill and I can take care of myself. Saying that you are or were responsible for anything that happens to me is an insult to my capabilities and aptitudes. I don't need you Clayton Webb, just so you know. You are not responsible for me, nor is there any need for you to protect me. Do you wish to argue with that?"
"No," he responded wisely.
"Then there is no reason to feel guilty about what happened."
"I still do."
"I know, you shouldn't. You also shouldn't tell me who I am and am not in love with. I don't know if I do love Harm. It's more complicated than that. I do know that I like being with you, I thought I loved you after Paraguay, but I'm not sure. Like you said- the chicken and the egg. It's confusing, it's blurred and I don't know what to think right now. I do know that you are here saying all the right things. I mean it when I say I love you but I don't know if I am 'in love' with you or whether I am falling 'in love' with you or whether I just love you. You might see that as a reason to end this, but I don't. I don't want to end this and we are not going to end this today. If I have to I will wait for you."
"You feel in debt to me and I feel in debt to you," he said suddenly, as if it were a realisation.
"No, it's more than that," I argued, "Yes, I am endlessly grateful for what you did for me in Paraguay. There is no need to make amends, you already have. Yes you may have been selfish in taking me there, but you screwed up and you fixed up your screw up. You gave yourself up for me and I am thankful for that. You not only saved my life, you also spared me a fate worse than death really. I know what they were going to do with me. You know what they were going to do with me. So forget doing anything to make it up to me. You already have at least a thousand times over. But there is more to it than that. You remember when I got there? We talked Clay. We actually talked. We had a conversation. Do you know how much I missed conversations? Like real, honest conversations without hidden implications or past hurts- a discussion without constantly having to analyse the other person's motives or elicit the true meaning of their words? I can talk to you. I can tell you things. You don't judge me. You quite freely accept that I have strong feelings for my best friend- feelings that might but will probably not lead me away from you. For a spook, you are a pretty amazing guy. So it's not just gratitude. I am at least a bit in love with you and probably a whole lot more than I am willing to admit."
"Why?"
"Because it's hard for me to fall in love with people. I usually try and--- keep people at bay. I don't let them see who I really am very often. I mask my true feelings and emotions because I don't like how they affect my judgement and how they make me feel. Admittedly there have been some people- Harm not excluded- that have somehow managed to get past all those defence mechanisms. And once that happens, I usually let myself love them, but it takes a long time for me to get to that point where I am not afraid, when I let down my guard. I can't promise you it will happen, it probably will, because one day you'll talk it out of me, but sometimes it never does. I have had lots of men leave me because of it but I cannot help it. If you are willing to stick around for the ride we might end up somewhere, I don't know where but I can assure you, it will be one hell of a journey."
"That I'll believe."
"Not I said something then and it is true so I will repeat it. This, this--- thing will Harm and I will probably end as uneventfully as it started. We're not your happily ever after type and it will end in tears. I'm not even sure I'm willing to put myself up for it. There was a time when I was in love with him, I won't deny that, but he has hurt me too many times for me to be able to say that now. I think I am in love with him Clay, but as I said, it is more complicated than that."
"How?"
"Because I am tired of waiting for something to happen between us. There's a lot of potential there, as you said, we're probably the only two people in the world who don't think we're in love with each other. But neither of us is willing to step backward and neither is willing to step forward. We've been dancing around each other for years- our metaphor for our relationship- the dance. But we're both sick of it, so we've stopped. Now we have no idea what to do with each other. If we're not dancing, what are we doing? It's either nothing or something but at the moment it is nothing and it will probably stay nothing. His reasons I don't understand. From what I have been able to decipher he is afraid of loving me because he thinks he will lose me and, doing some severe reading between the lines, thinks I ended it in Paraguay. My reasons are a lot simpler- I don't want to deal with his insecurities again, I don't want to sacrifice my pride for nothing, I don't want to get involved again, and all of that because I do not want to get hurt again. It's really very simple. He is afraid of losing me and I am afraid of having him because I know he will not be unreserved."
"Oh."
"But I still have to find him," I whispered quietly, "I want to come."
He began another long explanation.
"Sarah, you know I think you are capable and that you would be a fine addition to any team I get together, but you also know that we are involved. You've been around intelligence long enough to know that you have to be objective in the field. You're also involved with Rabb and that is downright deadly in covert rescue ops. You're a marine. You're trained to storm beaches, to hold tactical positions- to fight. You prefer the overt approach. This is not what we will be using here. There will be no one going in weapons blazing. You've read the mission details; you know that there is another op in the region. They were gathering specific intelligence about a known terrorist training cell that has been really busy lately. We can't just go in, guns blazing and shoot 'em all. It's not going to happen overnight. We're gonna move slowly, get some good solid intel, and we can't trust the CIA in the region either. I have to insert at least two agents into the area, not only to get Rabb and Graham back, but also to investigate our boys. I don't want to suspect them, but we know there was a leak. That means someone is a double agent and we don't know whom. Furthermore, we have to pretend we're utilising all our resources in the area otherwise whoever it is will suspect something. It's going to be dangerous, painstaking and risky. I don't want you to be involved."
"Because you think I can't take care of myself?"
"Because I don't want too much déjà vu on this op."
"A Paraguay repeat?"
"Something like that."
"But we agreed I am capable of holding my own."
"Yes we did."
"We agreed you don't have to protect me."
"We did that too."
"We agreed that you don't have to feel guilty."
"I know."
"And we agreed that you don't have any debt to repay."
"No we didn't."
"Then repay me," I pleaded in a whisper, "Do this for me."
"Don't bully me into a mistake Sarah."
"You feel in debt to me. Make it up to me the way I want you to. Clay, I don't want you to walk away from me, that is no compensation for what happened. I want you to take me with you so I can settle a debt of my own and get rid of some of my own guilt. Clay, you know how I feel, please, you know how hard it is to live with that sought of feeling in your stomach. Please, I am begging you, and take a photograph cuz Marines don't beg very often- please do this for me. If you feel that you are in debt to me, settle it- here and now- by saying you will take me with you."
"Sarah- you know I can't refuse you, but I can't accept your offer either."
"Please? Look, I can help you. You know I can help you. You said yourself that I have my advantages in the field. I have a lot of advantages in this situation and you know it. Firstly, I can speak and understand Farsi, which is from the same root language as Dari. Secondly, I know and appreciate the Middle Eastern culture. Thirdly, I am a battle-trained Marine. I can use weapons, I can think on my feet and I can defend myself. Fourthly, I am a woman and that means that it will be a lot easier to go unnoticed within the society we are talking about. And most importantly, you can trust me. Didn't you say that you needed people you could trust? People that weren't involved in the leaks? I am not CIA; I am not even intelligence. I am not remotely involved and you can trust me. Yes, there are other reasons I am asking you to take me, but those are the reasons you should take me. You also said that I would be a valuable member of any team. So please, because I am asking you to do something that will ease both our consciences and be a benefit to us both, please take me with you."
"Ok," he surrendered, "Ok, I will see if I can place you on the team. But Sarah, Mac- I will call you that when we're working and it has nothing to do with you, but it is a way of keeping professional and personal separate- Mac, I won't take you if you don't make the grade. I'm serious. You want to be a part of it? Fine, you have convinced me to give you as much consideration as any other who expresses interest, but if you don't cut it, I will not take you and it will be nothing personal. Also, it will be nothing personal. I will give you orders, I will tell you to do things you and I will not like and you will find yourself playing a whole new ball game. Whatever happens, I want to be assured that you understand this is work not play, that I will treat you exactly the same as every member of my team regardless of where we stand personally."
"I didn't expect anything less Webb. And I will call you that while we're working too, because otherwise lines could get blurry out there."
"Yes they could and I am afraid of that. I don't want to worry about fucking this thing with you up as well as the fucking the op up. If you can't tell me that you will not take it personally, then I will not take you."
"It's nothing personal," I informed him lightly.
"And lastly," he sucked in a breath, "Lastly, if this is how you want me to pay you back Sarah, then fine, I will pay you back. But then the score will be even. I will not be pushed into favours like this every time your flyboy thinks he wants to crash a God damned aircraft. Furthermore, the offer I made previously will not stand as it was. I will not walk away without asking questions. The option remains for you to end this, to end 'us' now. I probably won't take you to Afghanistan if you do, and you know that, but you can still do it. When and if, I stress the if, we come back and you do decide that you want something rather than nothing with Rabb, then I will fight for you. Unlike him, I am not willing to let you walk out the door without a decent dispute. I will not sit back and watch you go, I will not take no for an answer and I will not have to like you decisions. I will still respect them, because I respect you, but I also love you and make no mistake Sarah, I want to be with you. If you have a problem with my conditions, then fine, you do not have to accept them. But it is my op and I write the terms of service. Accept or decline?"
I regarded him with a blank stare for a long moment, "I accept."
"Then welcome aboard, it's gonna be one bitch of a journey."
I was uneasy about his terms and conditions. I wasn't sure who had won and who had lost or whether it was mutually acceptable agreement in which no one was disadvantaged. It was unusual, being in a position where no one was on top, where there was no struggle of wills, no argument. I didn't like it. Maybe I was refuting my own logic, but maybe the age old who's on top argument saves relationships rather than kills them. Maybe, just maybe.
And if that's the case, then who is better at having that argument than Harm and I?
Maybe Webb was right. Maybe I do love him.
I laughed at that thought and Webb looked at me inquiringly. I just put a hand to my mouth and silenced myself.
There really was no maybe about that at all.
* * * * * *